


Words

by entity9silvergen



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit Sanders Angst, Deceit Sanders Needs a Hug, Deceit Sanders-centric, Drabble, Drabbles, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt, Minor Remus Warning, Self-Reflection, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, minor language warning, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entity9silvergen/pseuds/entity9silvergen
Summary: Deceit was a master of words. He could manipulate them, craft webs of lies, and twist them in his mouth but that made their true meanings all the more valuable. It was too bad the other Sides and Thomas didn't know how much words could hurt him.
Relationships: Deceit Sanders & Everyone, Deceit Sanders & Thomas Sanders
Comments: 70
Kudos: 360





	1. Deepest Meanings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a drabble I wrote at 3 am but you guys asked for more so it turned into a short story. Each chapter is still a drabble (meaning less than 1K words). Hope you enjoy

Deceit had a great appreciation for words.

Mere noises and letters put together could form something that had such strong meaning. A lone word could be impactful or nothing at all. It was when they were put together and molded into sentences that they became something more. Sentences were communication. And when sentences were strewn together, they became art.

Diction and syntax, syntax and diction. They fit like puzzle pieces. Sometimes they fit together so perfectly. They complemented each other, completed a picture, became something beautiful. Other times, not so much. They could be broken and still have meaning, even if not the one intended.

Maybe that's why Deceit loved to pour over literature. The change in style over time fascinated him. The way philosophers of times past bent words to portray such profound insights made his heart sing in ways that surprised even him. The sheer craftsmanship that went into creating a novel was astounding. Deceit loved it all.

But most of all, he loved how the others used words.

Logan was straightforward, using the most complex of words to make his points. Roman was far less direct, painting pictures and making wild analogies to convey his ideas. Patton spoke simply but his words were heavy with emotion and meaning. Remus spoke with explicit honesty and knew how to utilize the skill well. For Virgil, words were rare that made them all the more genuine so the shortest of statements had the most monumental of effects.

And then there was Deceit. He used words unlike any other Side.

Deceit manipulated words. They were his. He owned them. He twisted them unrecognizably and warped them into new dimensions. To him, words were more than communication. They were powerful and he wielded that power well.

He was a liar and he hated it.

Logan couldn’t understand him, confused by a few mere lines. Roman was easily deceived, swallowing half-truths like life-saving elixir. Patton was repulsed, the lack of honesty practically burning him anytime Deceit was in his presence. Remus loved his words but Deceit’s words shut him up and he hated that he could just deny him of something he valued so much without a thought. And Virgil… Oh Virgil, words could hurt him so easily.

His words hurt all of them. He was in control yet not at all. If words meant so much to him, why couldn’t he use them to show them how he felt? Why did he scathe Logan when all he wanted to do was let him know how much he respected him? Why did he mock Roman when all he wanted to do was show his appreciation for everything he did? Why did he taunt Patton when all he wanted to do was match that love with equal vigor? Why did he scorn Remus when all he wanted to do was express his love for his honesty? Why did he slight Virgil when all he wanted to do was tell him how much he cared?

Words could do so much. Timed and molded right, they could bring unparalleled joy to someone’s day. Timed and molded right, they could do the opposite.

“Leave,” Thomas said and Deceit nearly did a double take.

“Come again?”

“Leave me alone,” Thomas repeated, despair bleeding into his voice. Deceit frowned. That wasn’t right. He tilted his head and leaned forward but that just made Thomas back away. “I wouldn’t be a bad person if it wasn’t for you.”

Deceit tried not to show how hard those words hit him. Putting on his usual confident persona, he purred, “Thomas, you’re not a bad person.”

“That means so much coming from a liar,” Thomas snorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. He looked away and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t want to be a liar.”

Deceit leaned back, unable to hide the slight widening of his eyes but Thomas didn’t seem to notice. “I…”

What? What could he say? That he was sorry? Clearly his words meant nothing to Thomas. He couldn’t pretend like that didn’t hurt him. Words meant everything to Deceit and to have them twist in his own mouth every time he spoke… He supposed he couldn’t blame Thomas for hating him nor could he blame Thomas for inadvertently hurting him. He didn’t know… He didn’t know anything.

“Please,” Thomas whispered, tucking his knees in close and curling against the wall. “Please just leave.”

Deceit opened his mouth but no words came out. His lips closed and he ducked his head, resigned. He let out a breath and wordlessly, he sank out and Thomas was left alone with nothing but his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone started reading this fic on YouTube! It's incomplete and there's this error right now where some of the videos are age restricted when they shouldn't be but here's a link if you're interested.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8uepPj6fIDz4GoBdQ6Ytp_xWhTufOZuC


	2. Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words are a spectrum.

When Thomas was in 8th grade, one of Thomas’s teachers said something that made Deceit fall even more in love with words. She said English was one of the hardest languages to learn because there were so many synonyms.

Words all had different meanings but someone of them had the same meanings. Even then, there were slight differences that set them apart from each other and gave them whole new meaning. They were so incredibly small, almost unnoticeable, and near impossible to memorize.

Deceit found them fascinating. 

For example, anger. Anger meant many things. Technically, annoyance fell under anger by definition but the two were almost never associated with each other. Anger was on a whole different level than annoyance. Annoyance was nothing compared to anger. The same applied to fury but in the opposite direction. When Deceit thought of fury, he thought of destruction. Mindless chaos in a fit of rage, wrath threatening to bubble to the surface and take over, a rampage of boiling heat. Still anger but something so much more. 

Each word was a spectrum. If anger was the center, annoyance fell on one end and fury fell on the other and there were a thousand words between. Honing in on the slight differences, they could be molded together to perfectly express one’s emotion.

But Deceit wasn’t angry. He was sad but sad wasn’t a powerful enough word.

Anguish. Agony. Despair. Distress. Misery. Heartbreak.

Even those words weren’t enough.

For a language with such a wide range of words, it always upset Deceit when he couldn’t find words to articulate his thoughts. English was just so limited. It shouldn’t be but it was.

Like, how could he describe what it felt like to sink out? He could probably make some bizarre noises and wild gesticulations and another Side would understand him but only because they’d experienced it, just like he had. He didn’t have any idea how to describe it with words to someone who had never done it. 

Sometimes, he tried to describe what it felt like to rise up. It came up in conversation often enough, with Dark Sides unable to do it properly and all, but Deceit could never manage to show how he felt. Virgil got close a few times but words like sick and nauseating just fell short somehow.

He couldn’t remember sinking out of Thomas’s living room and he didn’t know why he decided to try to rise up but he did and he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. Not with so many emotions churning in his chest.

Emotions were tricky. Sometimes they were simple but sometimes not.

Sometimes words weren’t enough.

Deceit hated these moments when crude, messy noises formed in his throat and sobs escaped his lips. Dizzy and unstable from rising up, Deceit couldn’t throw himself onto his bed fast enough. In the back of his mind, he was aware he’d returned to his room but the room’s comforting aura failed to soothe him in the slightest.

Deceit leaned over his bed, feet still on the ground like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to remain composed and stand or curl up in the safety of his blankets. He grasped his sheets in gloved fingers and held onto them like a lifeline, burying his face into the soft blankets like he was hiding. He wasn’t sure when he started crying but tears were spilling from his eyes and he couldn’t stop it.

Why was he crying? It wasn’t like Thomas never rejected him before. 

Deceit was always carefully attuned to the meaning behind whatever someone was saying. It made words directed at him all the more meaningful. That combined with the fact it was Thomas… The host was everything to a Side.

It hurt. It hurt in ways Deceit couldn’t explain and somehow that made it hurt more.

It didn’t matter though. It wasn’t like there was anyone to listen if he did know how to explain it. He was alone.

Alone with his stupid, wordless sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my first time having a character cry? I don't like writing crying scenes. I cry very rarely so it always feels out of place when I see characters cry. It usually seems unwarranted but I think the last chapter established how hurtful Thomas's words were well enough.


	3. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton’s words are hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Narrator unreliability? Who's she? Never heard of her.
> 
> But for real, you can choose to interpret Patton however you want in this one.

Some words were hollow.

Ethos, pathos, and logos. He knew them well. After all, three of the six core Sides represented some part of them.

Logan was logos. Everything about him was logical. Every word he said, it was all to prove a point in the most sound way possible. He presented reasons and left no room for error. It was cold, cunning, and calculating. He loved it.

Deceit had to say he was ethos. It was ironic, almost, that someone with the name Deceit represented credibility but there were two sides to credibility just as there were two sides to Deceit. It was perfect in the cruelest way. Honest or lying, his credibility was tainted no matter what he said.

Patton was pathos. Out of all the Sides, Deceit loved hearing Patton’s words the most. His words carried such sheer emotion it was almost overwhelming. They were so raw and genuine, so heavy with meaning.

But right now, they were hollow.

Ethos, pathos, and logos, they were persuasion. Everyone spoke with a purpose and hints of the three appeals could always be detected in them. It could be obvious, it could be faint, but it was always there.

Speech was Deceit’s domain. Voices were his playground, tone was his song. Warm words were his candy, cold words were his poison. He could always read them. Words always carried meaning. That’s why they existed.

Hollow words left Deceit uneasy.

He couldn’t read the tone. It was like someone was just making noise for no reason. They were still words, those elegant, carefully formed words, but they weren’t  _ words _ . They were just speaking. They weren’t communicating. It was like they were just talking for the sake of talking.

In this case, “they” was Patton and that made it worse.

“Kiddo?” Patton called, knocking Deceit’s door. Deceit didn’t move. He felt strangely empty, like he had nothing left to give. No will, no purpose. He was spent. Normally, he’d feel silly for crying so hard but he didn’t feel anything. He was hollow, like Patton’s words. “You okay in there kiddo? The others said they hadn’t seen you in a couple of days.”

The words were created to be caring but Patton’s voice just didn’t carry that notion. They were empty. A formality. Deceit was certain he didn’t really care.

“Go away Patton,” Deceit mumbled into his pillow, raising his voice just enough to ensure Patton heard. As his lips moved, he was absently aware that his pillow was damp with leftover tears. It was an unpleasant feeling but he made no effort to move. How long had he been here again? Patton said it’d been a couple of days. He knew he hadn’t been crying for that long. Had he really been lying here in his own self-pity for two whole days?

Patton was silent for a moment and Deceit felt something in his heart for a split second that might have been guilt. It was quickly washed away by the heavy, foggy feeling clouding his head and chest.

“You sure you’re okay?” Patton asked. Deceit squeezed his eyes shut.

“Just leave me alone,” he practically begged. He didn’t want to listen to Patton’s voice anymore. Not when it was so painfully obvious he came here because it was expected of him. He was Morality afterall. Checking on Deceit was the right thing to do. Patton didn’t actually care. Deceit would know if he did.

“If that’s what you want, Deceit,” Patton said and Deceit crumbled his hands. No kiddo. Just Deceit. Being turned down probably made Patton forget his facade. He was probably relieved he didn’t have to keep up this caring act anymore.

“It is.”

“Well… Hope you feel better. Come join us for supper if you’re up for it.”

There it was. That formality again. That empty, hollow formality. Speaking for the sake of speaking, Patton didn’t mean a thing he said. He didn’t want to say those things. He just thought he had to. It was as clear as day.

Deceit wasn’t having it. He wasn’t going to fall into the same verbal dance. Closing his lips, he didn’t give Patton the grace of responding with his own hollow, meaningless noise of confirmation. He was a liar but there were some things he couldn’t bring himself to do.

Patton lingered for a moment before turning away, his footsteps telling Deceit he was once again left alone in his despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Patton actually care? Is Deceit just being dramatic? Let me know what you think.


	4. Bold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is Bold

Some words were bold.

Remus was bold.

Remus never held anything back and Deceit loved that about him. He never hesitated to speak and his voice never wavered. He’d saunter into a room like a king and talk up a storm whether anyone wanted to listen or not. It was usually the latter.

Patton’s words were raw but they were raw with emotion. Remus’s words were raw in an entirely different way. They were raw as in they were unfiltered.

As disturbing some of the things Remus said were, Deceit loved to listen to him talk. All the Sides were attuned to something or another and Deceit had an affinity for words. He would practically taste them in the air and Remus’s pure genuinity was sweet.

He was just so wild. Everything about him was unrestricted and he was willing to wander to the extremes to see how far that lack of restriction could take him. His words reflected that.

Remus’s actions were bold too.

Deceit’s door was kicked down with a loud crack and Remus’s sharp, heavy steps made it sound like an elephant decided to barge in but Deceit couldn’t find the energy to look up.

“Hey doub- Oh hey. What happened to you?” Remus questioned. He was at Deceit’s side in an instant. “If you’re trying to die, the pool is the place to lie face down in, not your bed.”

“I’m well aware,” Deceit said and rolled over a bit to look up at his fellow Side. The lights were off but Deceit could see the outline of his friend’s frame well enough. Concern was shining in Remus’s eyes. Deceit frowned. That wasn’t right. They were supposed to be gleaming with… with… with thrill. He was wild. Bold. Not soft hearted.

Hesitation looked wrong on Remus’s face. Unease, doubt, indecision, it didn’t belong. Why was Remus so… so… not bold? Was he broken? Deceit didn’t want a broken Remus. He was already fragile in the most unbreakable way. Could he be fixed? What brought this? Was it Deceit? 

Remus was honest and unfiltered. Now, his actions were deliberate. Deceit didn’t like that. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“This,” Deceit murmured, half heartedly reaching up. Remus clasped his hand. “You’re being all… gentle. It’s weird. Stop.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Remus sighed dramatically and sprang to his feet. He grinned like an animal and began spinning around the room. “Finger painting with vomit! Cows filled with helium! Bathtubs filled with windex! Um… Um… Butts!”

“You good?” 

Sometimes Remus just needed to get it out of his system.

“Yeah… I’m good.”

But now that he had, all the motion was gone from his limbs and worry etched itself on his face again.

“What happened, Double Dee?”

Deceit’s eyes flickered to the ground. “Nothing.”

“You weren’t even trying with that one. If you’re going to lie, lie well.”

Deceit sighed and closed his eyes briefly. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care? Why do I care?! You’re my best friend, Double Dee! You’ve been hiding up in your dark little hidey hole for days. Do you really think I wouldn’t come check up on you?”

His words sparked something in Deceit’s chest. At least Remus was honest. He meant what he said. He was always straightforward with his feelings and his words reflected that. This was the bold Remus he knew and loved. It felt... nice . Nice to know he had at least someone he could call his friend who wouldn’t be lying if he said the same thing. Doubt hurt. He didn’t like doubt. But there was no doubt with Remus.

Remus settled down on his bed beside him. Still gentle but there was still that wildness brimming under the surface. Hesitation gone, he was bold again.

Deceit loved Remus’s voice when it was bold.

“Okay, what happened? Who did this to you? Who do I have to kill?”

Deceit chuckled. He sat up, a bit of life flowing back into his limbs. “No one, Remus. Not unless you want to die too.”

Remus looked confused for a moment before his expression hardened. “Thomas?”

“Thomas.”

“Then I will have words with him!” Remus got to his feet sharply, summoning his morningstar. He paused. “Unless…”

“Stay here with me,” Deceit whispered. “Just talk to me for a bit, okay?”

Remus nodded numbly, quiet for only a moment before spouting off about some nasty fantasy he was cooking up in the imagination. As always, his voice carried undertones of confidence and his voice didn’t shake in the slightest.

He was bold. Deep down, he was bold in the most genuine way that Deceit wasn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus is my child and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.
> 
> As the title implies, the diction and syntax for this story is important and it's so flipping difficult to characterize everyone properly with a word limit.
> 
> Could I have made this story shippy? Yes. Did I? No.


	5. Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is a creature of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that Virgil is still kind of a Dark Side in this. I'm going off of what we saw in Healthy Distractions where all the Sides, Light and Dark, coexist. I know in canon Virgil still dislikes Deceit despite the others' casual interaction with him but they get along here.

Some said actions meant more than words.

Deceit thought they went hand in hand.

He didn’t think his words would have the same effect if he didn’t say them with his usual swagger. Patton’s words would lose their weight if he didn’t smile when he said them. Remus’s words wouldn’t feel so unhinged if he didn’t flail and shriek while spouting them.

Virgil was a creature of action. He wasn’t much of a speaker. He was silent and constantly moving. He was always pacing around his room or fumbling with something or another. Even when he sat down to watch a movie or read a book, his hands were up to something. Playing with hoodie strings, turning over a coin in his hands, bouncing his leg, he just didn’t stay still.

Creatures of action didn’t speak much. They spoke with action, not words. Virgil would offer a smile or curl up into someone’s side to show he cared rather than tell them. He’d glare or hiss to express displeasure. He’d hide his face or turn away when he was upset. He could be hard to read but these rare displays often held more meaning than a song Roman sang or a lesson from Logan.

But with fight and flight came freeze.

Virgil was Anxiety, Anxiety was Virgil. And Anxiety was more than fight or flight. It was fight, flight, or freeze.

Sometimes, running wasn’t an option. Sometimes fighting wasn’t an option either. That left freeze. 

Anxiety was a defense mechanism embedded deeply into humans. In a survival situation, the need to fight or flee sometimes became so overwhelming that the body just shut down and stopped all efforts to get away or defend. The pent up anxious energy was still there and the body would often shake to release it. It just went to show that a creature of motion could be stilled.

Virgil didn’t always run. He didn’t always fight. Movement was his nature but stopping was too.

He was still anxious. He was the embodiment of anxiety, he’d always have that excess energy thrumming through his veins, but he could be less frantic when he wanted to. Calmer, almost tranquil.

It was these rare moments he slowed down where he spoke best.

While in motion, Virgil was filled with witty quips and snappy comebacks. They didn’t mean anything but the words weren’t a facade. They were sharp, like weapons. They were his wall.

When he slowed down, the wall came down and the words became soft. They were genuine but not in the way Remus’s were. Remus was bold but Virgil was gentle. Maybe that was why Deceit was thrown off by Remus’s earlier behavior. Gentleness belonged with Virgil.

Virgil could be rough but when he was stilled, he was vulnerable. He opened his heart up for others to see and listen to. Whatever spilled out was as raw and real as anything Remus could dream up but it was far more personal. It was just so purely Virgil.

The flow was controlled but pieces of him still ebbed out and they reeked with everything Deceit held so dear. Having Virgil just sit down and talk to him… His words meant the world. They made his heart slow and warmth spread through his chest.

“Hey,” Virgil said, flopping down on Deceit’s bed. Deceit was sitting up but he didn’t quite have the energy to get up. Virgil didn’t seem to care, worming his way to lean on the wall beside Deceit. “Dukey said you weren’t doing so great.”

Deceit let out a sigh. “It’s nothing new.”

“Like hell it is. You’ve never been like this before. Something happened, right? With Thomas?”

Deceit remained silent. He could feel a lie starting to form on his tongue but he wasn’t about to let it escape.

Virgil didn’t seem to notice the lack of his response. “You know even if he rejects you, it doesn’t mean you’re not important, right?”

“I suppose,” Deceit whispered. He looked down, balling up the sheets of his bed in his fists. “It just hurts to be… be… I don’t know. He thinks he’s a bad person and I’m to blame.”

“And?”

“He sounded so defeated. I guess that’s what made it so bad.”

Virgil leaned his head on his shoulder. His hands were still moving, playing with his own fingers, but the rest of him was still. “It doesn’t matter what Thomas thinks.”

“But-”

Virgil suddenly shifted to face him, effectively cutting him off. “You listen to me. Thomas doesn’t know you. I do. And I know you’re not bad for him.”

Deceit’s lips closed and he looked up at Virgil with hopeful cross colored eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Virgil said, smiling. Deceit couldn’t help but smile too. That was right. Virgil always meant what he said when they talked like this. Maybe he was right.


	6. Paint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman can paint something beautiful with a song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter basically recycled an idea I used in a oneshot. I was going to wait to post this chapter after I posted that oneshot but I also told myself I'd post in whenever Thomas posted the next Sanders Sides video. He is very late (which is perfectly understandable) so I have decided to just post this chapter anyway and wait to post the oneshot. Yes, I know my reasoning does not make much sense but just go with it.

If writing was an art then a song was an art. Any kind of storytelling was an art.

By stringing together the most delicate of words, a scene could be painted. A scene more beautiful than any portrait or landscape.

The imagination was something special. With just a few prompts and hints, it could fill in the blanks and create something spectacular. 

Color was something that always brought life to a vague inkling. Backgrounds could be created, people and objects could be placed, entire buildings could be constructed. A park or a waterfall, a face or an action, a dream or a memory, anyone could envision it after the briefest of descriptions but where was the fun in that? Depth and detail could create something beautiful.

Imagery was a skill and it was a skill Deceit did not have. Sure, he was better with it than, say, Logan or Patton but Remus and Roman were true masters of it. They worked in entirely different hemispheres but Deceit had to respect their work.

Remus worked with something darker. The most unpleasant of images could burst to life in the mind and cause unparalleled terror and he only needed a few well placed words to do it. Roman on the other hand…

Roman was a classic. An artist in the most traditional sense. Remus hated that about his brother and while Deceit usually sided with his fellow Dark Side, he had to say he enjoyed Roman’s art thoroughly. It was so… bright. Genuine in the simplest way.

The mindscape had been surprisingly quiet for the most part as of late, save the clattering of dishes in the kitchen around meal time. Deceit hoped that Remus or Virgil, both of whom were on better terms with the Light Sides than Deceit, asked them to tone it down while Deceit was- er, moping but it seemed Deceit’s quiet respite was over.

_ “Stories. Audience or presenter, add scores of stories over time, a slew of silly videos I shared online…” _

At first, Deceit would barely hear it through the mindpalace’s walls.

_ “And journals full of narratives I wrote at age nine. And still, I continue to write because I have more dreams to fulfill…” _

But it became louder and louder and slowly, streaks of color and light began to form in Deceit’s mind. They were faint but it felt like he could almost grasp…

_ “Tales I hoped to tell when I was younger. Ideas that I haven't made yet, but I will…” _

Deceit pushed himself out of his bed, stumbling and desperate to reach out for the words in the air. There was an image dancing in his mind, given life by the words flowing through the halls. It sparked something inside of him and energy poured into his stilled limbs. It wasn’t complete yet and something inside him was tugging him toward the source to hear it just a bit more clearly.

“I'll find my way with my will,” Roman finished singing as Deceit burst into the commons. Their eyes locked briefly and the pair froze, neither knowing what to do next.

“Alone,” Deceit said suddenly, stepping out of the hallway into the kitchen. Roman looked confused, eyeing him from where he stood in the living room. Deceit shuffled his arms under his cloak in embarrassment. Or at least he tried. To his dismay, he’d left his trusty cloak in his room.

Roman eyed Deceit cautiously, fingers twitching like he was going to reach for his sword. Deceit averted his gaze and swallowed uncomfortably, unsure what to do.

“It's hard to console myself when I feel so alone. I feel like I disappear, if I don't shout  _ I'm here _ , if I don't make my presence known…”

Deceit’s voice came out quiet. Roman raised an eyebrow, either in surprise or curiosity. Deceit doubted he could hear what he was saying. He cleared his voice and tried to sing a bit louder.

“And if people see me here, and find my face unclear, can I help them to see me better? I know I can't foresee the weather, so will they accept me now or ever? Who knows?”

“I hope so…” Roman finished softly, a smile forming on his face. Deceit couldn’t tell if it reached his eyes or not.

The melody hovered between them and broken images whirled in Deceit’s mind. A song was the perfect way to paint a picture. Fragments of the tales Roman spoke of appeared in his mind alongside broken representations of Deceit’s… something. As powerful as a song was, it couldn’t magically create words where there were none. The song was an outlet but he didn’t write it. He still didn’t know how to articulate his thoughts. Deceit still felt uneasy with so many emotions swamping his chest.

“Hey Deceit?”

“Hmm?”

“You missed a verse.”

“What?”

“Stories led into eggs, not alone. You skipped a verse.”

“Eat my hat.”

To his surprise, Roman laughed and waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I enjoy it either way. A beautiful song, isn’t it?”

“It’s expressive,” Deceit agreed with a nod. He leaned on the counter, casual and slick for the first time in days. “Really paints a story, doesn’t it? Lost and alone…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I don't own the song Roman sang but in case you've never heard it, it's Recipe For Me by Thomas Sanders.


	7. Effective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan can explain things

The reason Deceit was such a prominent Side was that communication was such a vital part of human life.

It wasn’t even just modern, day to day stuff either. Sure, social media revolutionized the world and conversation made everything a bit easier but the world was built on communication. History’s greatest empires grew to be what they are today thanks to ideas from others. Whether it be the spread of Ottoman art to spark the Renaissance, Europe’s surge of naval power thanks to plans from the East, or the evolution of religion along the Silk Road, it was an undeniable fact communication shaped society.

Deceit had a hard time expressing his appreciation for words when it came to this aspect of it. If not for the exchange of ideas and words thousands of years ago, he would not be here today. It was thanks to mankind’s greatest thinkers and merchants and their abilities to solidify their brilliance and share it with the world that history played out as it did.

Deceit respected brilliance. It brimmed under the surface of everyone but there were few who could rightfully claim the title of genius and to claim that title, they had to make others understand what they knew. It took the finest, most effective mastery of the knowledge and the words to be able to share the secrets that marked a man a genius. They had to mold words into something comprehensible so their genius could be undisputed. The ability to do that was a rarity and something that Deceit held in the highest regard.

Logan was the only genius Deceit knew. Sure, he struggled with some aspects of the language, like expressions, but he had that brilliance and the ability to express it in the most effective way possible. Logan was the kind of man who could change the foundations of humanity. If he had the chance, Deceit had complete and utter faith he could. But he didn’t have the chance. He was a Side, not a real person, but that was okay. More than okay. It was a massive comfort to know Thomas was in capable hands. 

But sometimes Logan ended up with more on his hands than just Thomas.

Deceit tried to keep up his usual lazy, casual saunter as he draped himself against the wall leading up to Logan’s doorway but he wasn’t feeling his usual lazy, casual self. He nearly stumbled but he caught himself just in time. Frowning, he decided to just act like a normal Side and walk right in. He took his hat off, fingering it nervously, and stepped in. “Logan?”

“Hmm?” Logan looked up at the sound of the snake-like Side’s voice. He was sitting at his desk when Deceit stepped in but didn’t look particularly busy. “Oh. Deceit. Can I help you?”

“Maybe,” Deceit said, walking in. If anyone could help him, it was Logan. Logan didn’t twist words. He was clear and effective. And best of all, his words weren’t clouded with emotion. He’d tell him what he wanted to know unfiltered by his personal feelings about Deceit. “Can you explain something to me?”

Logan turned in his seat so he was facing him. “That is my job isn’t it?”

“It is,” Deceit stated. He paused and swallowed, half-expecting Logan to speak up again. He didn’t. “I was wondering… Don’t you think my job kind of contradicts yours?”

“I don’t follow.”

“We Dark Sides, we’re opposites of you Light Sides.”

“That is correct but if I recall correctly, Virgil is my opposite.”

“And you two work phenomenally together,” Deceit responded, unable to resist sprinkling in some old sarcastic honesty in there. “But don’t you think I interfere with both yours and Patton’s jobs?”

“I suppose,” Logan responded. “But you augment Creativity’s role so I think it evens out. What brought up this line of thinking? Surely it isn’t what’s kept you in your room these past few days.”

“No, no,” Deceit responded. “It’s not that.”

“Then if I may ask…”

“Thomas believes I make him a bad person,” Deceit said before he could catch himself and suddenly the words were spilling out of his mouth. “I know this is only because I oppose Patton. Patton is the Side that defines him the most. So don’t I…?”

“You think you warp his nature?”

“... Yes. I’ve only ever wanted what was best for Thomas but I fear… I fear I’m hurting him.”

“I pr-”

“Wait. Let me finish. It’s more than that. I feel like I’m causing harm to the other Sides as well. I don’t know if it’s related to my purpose or not but it just feels like I’m bringing something to the mindpalace that doesn’t belong. There’s a reason we Dark Sides and Light Sides are separate,” Deceit went on. “I feel like…”

Deceit trailed off, grasping for words that didn’t exist. He didn’t know how to express himself. He looked to Logan hopelessly. This was why he came to him. Logan was the master of effective communication. He’d be able to explain what he could not figure out on his own.

Logan sighed and gestured to his bed. “Lie down. This is going to be a long one.”

Deceit did as he was told, placing his hat on the indigo sheets and lying on his back to look up at the logical Side. Two pairs of brown eyes met and Deceit looked up at Logan like he held all the answers in the world, the faintest bit of hope flickering in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deceit is a history nerd. Couldn't help but sprinkle a little reflection on that in there. As much as I'd love to write something about Deceit's passion for history, I don't have time to fact check or find specific details to craft a well put together story but I'm happy with this drabble.


	8. Affirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deceit needs affirmation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's theme was kind of a stretch but it works. You can tell I kind of ran out of ideas.

Deceit was not a romantic but he was a scholar and he knew his literature well. The five love languages were created as a way to better understand what partners needed to feel loved but the same idea could be applied to friendships or any kind of relationship really. His knowledge on them made understanding his friends and fellow Sides a bit better.

If he had to say, Roman’s language was the act of service. As a prince and an adventurer, chivalry and action were second nature to him. The smallest service meant the world to him.

Logan’s was receiving gifts. He wasn’t greedy or materialistic but Logan had doubts. It was in his nature to have a disconnect from something so personal. A physical object made the message clear to him.

Patton’s was definitely quality time. Out of all the Sides, he had the most domestic role and he found joy in just basking in another Side’s presence. Spending time with others made him happy.

Virgil was tricky but Deceit knew with certainty his language was physical touch. He was an anxious man and hesitant to trust but that just made gentle contact all the more meaningful. A little bit of comfort went a long way.

Deceit’s language was undoubtedly affirmation. The simplest of words had a massive impact. A couple kind words could send him soaring and a hurtful one often left him shaken.

“You’re one of Thomas’s Sides. You wouldn’t exist if you didn’t have a purpose and your purpose is just as important as any other Side’s,” Logan concluded. About an hour had passed since Deceit entered the logical Side’s room and his neck was beyond sore from looking up at him for so long but he couldn’t turn away. He listened as attentive as ever, clinging to each and every word. “If anyone makes you doubt that, it’s not your fault or theirs. We are figments of the mind and the mind is a complex thing. We cannot be expected to understand everything always, not even each other. Or ourselves for that matter.”

Deceit let out a long breath and sat up. His hand fumbled out, reaching for his hat. “But even if I have a role, how can I do what’s right for Thomas if he won’t accept me? Or if the other Sides won’t accept me?”

“While I must say there is a divide between the Light and Dark Sides, as Roman calls them, it is much more figurative than literal. We don’t always get along but we have our moments. Isn’t that how most households are? Thomas is our metaphorical landlord and we are his metaphorical tenants. We all pay our figurative rent which aids him and he cannot kick us out.”

“But he-”

“Wait. Let me finish, Deceit,” Logan interrupted. “We work and live independently but in the end, anything each of us does affects each other. We share a mutual living space and a mutual purpose for existence. We may rub each other the wrong way and our relationships are strained at times but we don’t hate each other.”

“Okay but Thomas does.”

“Thomas is afraid,” Logan pointed out. “Logic, Morality, and Fantasy are all something Thomas views as positive so it is easier for him to accept us but you have to keep in mind it’s not normal for a human to be able to talk to manifestations of his personality. To some degree, he is uneasy with all of us. It’s just easier for him to project those feelings onto you.”

“So… What do I do?”

“That is up to you,” Logan said and he got to his feet. Deceit swung his legs off the bed and rose as Logan began leading him to the door. “You’re an important piece of Thomas, Deceit. It’s up to you if you want to show Thomas or not.”

Deceit fell silent as he stepped out of his room. “Thank you, Logan. I think… I think I have a better perspective on the situation now.”

Logan dipped his head. “Of course. And Deceit?”

“Yes?”

“If it means anything, I respect you. Truly. You do a great deal for Thomas and I greatly appreciate your presence in the Mindpalace.”

A smile threatened to creep up the corners of Deceit’s mouth. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”


	9. Contradiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deceit doesn’t understand Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys remember how I mentioned Roman's chapter (Chapter 6) was based off a oneshot that I wrote but hadn't posted? Well, it's up now. It's called Five Old Men Sitting On a Bench (Not Now, Not Ever. Never Again) so it'd be great if you guys checked it out. It's another Deceit fic and more emotional than this story.
> 
> I also posted a couple multichapters. Stolen From the Violet is a Magic AU where Virgil turned into a dragon and the other Voiceless is a Ben 10/ Sanders Sides crossover. If either of those interest you, check them out.

Sometimes words contradict themselves. 

Words weren’t always straightforward. Sometimes people’s words got all jumbled up to the point they weren’t even saying the same thing anymore. It could be difficult to know when someone was telling the truth.

Lucky for Deceit, he was well versed in reading spoken words. All the Sides were attuned to the flow of the invisible force in the Mindpalace and Deceit just so happened to be attuned to what was spoken. He could feel everyone’s voices and could pick up insight in the undertones that not even Logan could detect.

He wasn’t omnipotent though. Sides could believe something that wasn’t true or drown themselves in lies and falsehoods. That’s why Deceit had such a hard time reading Patton.

Patton was bubbly and bright but no one could be happy all the time, even the embodiment of emotion. Like every Side, Patton was devout to his duty and that made him crack fake smiles more often than any other Side. Deceit had an advantage in that he knew when Patton was lying but still, Patton confused him.

Patton was the dad of the group. He loved all of them, that was undoubtable, but Deceit didn’t know if Patton cared for Deceit as an individual or just an extension of Thomas. There was a line but Deceit couldn’t see where Patton stood.

When Patton spoke, his words rang with truth and honesty but Deceit couldn’t ward off the doubt creeping into his heart. Emotions were layered and so was Patton. Deceit could read the layers but emotions often contradict each other and that made it near impossible for Deceit to make sense of them.

How did Patton see him? It was time to find out.

“Hey Deceit,” Virgil greeted as Deceit entered the commons. He was sitting on top of the fridge eating... Was that granola? Virgil always shared Deceit’s love of granola. Deceit hadn’t eaten in awhile. Maybe he’d steal some…

“Hey kiddo!”

And there it was. 

“Hey Virgil. Hello Patton.”

“You feeling better?” Patton asked. He was standing in the kitchen baking something or another. “You didn’t seem all that up for talking when I visited you.”

“It’s… fine,” Deceit said. He paused and Patton spared him a glance, tilting his head. He knew something was up. Deceit could feel the words forming on his tongue and he tried to swallow them down but they were just begging to surface. “Hey Patton? Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm? Of course kiddo!”

Deceit’s mind scrambled for words. “What do you think of me?”

Patton looked confused. “I don’t follow.”

“You are the heart of the mind,” Deceit began. He wrung his hands. Virgil noticed and started to slip off the fridge to approach him but Deceit held up a hand, stopping him. “You care for all the Sides, I know that, but do you care for, um, all of us as people? As individuals? I know we all have purposes and we’re parts of Thomas but… Does that matter to you?”

Hurt flashed in Patton’s eyes. “Kiddo… What brought this up?”

“He had a nasty, uh, spat with Thomas,” Virgil spoke up.

“It’s not just that. We Light and Dark Sides coexist just fine but there is still… strain. I just…” Deceit trailed off. Why was this so difficult? He hated opening up like this. Gosh, crying his heart out all those days ago must’ve done a number on his walls. “I want to know how far that strain goes. I have to ask… Do you care about Virgil, Remus, and I as people or just Sides?”

Deceit looked down, unable to face Patton, but his eyes were drawn to Virgil. A blizzard of emotions whirled on his face. Surprise, curiosity, doubt, and then hurt… It was clear Virgil was debating Deceit’s words, questioning his relationship with Patton. Deceit felt a stab of guilt. Out of all the Dark Sides, Virgil was the closest to the father figure. Deceit hated that he made him uncertain about their bond.

“Deceit, I-” Patton began but Deceit cut him off.

“Take a moment to think. I want an honest answer. I can tell if you’re lying, you know.”

Patton paused and closed his mouth, lips shutting. He looked confused for a moment, face scrunching up in thought, before letting out a breath and continuing. “I’ll be honest here kiddo. I’ve always felt kinda… weird about you Dark Sides. I’m Morality so I guess the differences between us is a bit more obvious? When we were younger, I had a hard time accepting you guys but I think now I’m pretty comfortable with everything. I love Thomas. He’s my kiddo and we’re all parts of him but we’re our own people too. I don’t really know you or Remus as well as Virgil but I still care about you, Deceit.”

Deceit remained quiet for a moment, his brain filtering through his additional senses. He wanted to believe what Patton was saying but… No, it checked out. Patton was being honest. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. There were no layers or hidden meanings to these words. Nothing that contradicted or falsified itself. It was just purely Patton.

“Thank you,” Deceit whispered. Virgil silently slid off the fridge and slunk over almost curiously, ready to offer support or comfort if Deceit gave any signs he needed it.

“I’d say you’re welcome but I don’t really deserve to,” Patton chuckled, scratching the side of his face. “I’m sorry for making you think I was lying to you, kiddo. I promise I love you. Maybe not in the same way as the other Sides but I love all of you in your own special way.”

“Don’t… Don’t worry about it Patton. Doubt is part of my job.”

“I understand that but it doesn’t mean we can make you doubt yourself more than you have to. Now, what was this about Thomas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the only chapter I had to fight with to get under a thousand words.
> 
> Again, if you're interested in any of the fics I mentioned in the other AN, check them out.


	10. Authority

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is the highest authority.

All men were not created equal and that was a fact. Fundamentally, everyone deserves to be equal but that’s just not how the universe is. As much as Deceit hated to set aside society's injustices, they did not apply to the situation.

A scolding from a parent meant a lot more to a child than a scolding from a peer. The word of a god, whether it be that gods actually existed or it be that some common man was merely claiming to be an imaginary deity’s mouth, affected religious men and women deeply. An order from a king could spell the death of a servant. The verdict of a judge could determine the rest of a charged man’s life.

To Deceit, Thomas was all of that. He was the highest authority. He was his parent, his god, his king, his judge… Deceit existed because of him and solely for him. He meant everything to him.

Deceit was hardly aware of Remus and Roman respectively appearing and rising up behind him when he stepped before his host. In his mind, it was only him and Thomas. He needed to do this.

“Deceit,” Thomas said, muscles tensing at the sight of the snake faced Side. He’d been casually sitting on his couch but now his body was stiff, legs pulled in and hands gripping the cushions. He looked frightened and Deceit hated himself for it. But he couldn’t berate himself now. Not today. He was here to change, or at least take the first steps to change, Thomas’s thoughts regarding him.

“Thomas.” Deceit winced at how tired and broken his voice sounded. He was supposed to be slick and confident. Had all these emotional talks taken that big of a toll on him?

“What do you want?” Thomas growled. He looked over Deceit’s shoulder. “What are Roman and the Duke doing here?”

“Oh don’t mind us,” Remus said, throwing himself on the couch. Thomas shifted away from him despite the fact Remus claimed the farthest seat from him.

“We just got curious,” Roman responded innocently. “And we thought someone should be here in case things got out of hand.”

“Out of hand? How is this going to get out of hand?” Thomas demanded, gaze shifting back to Deceit. Deceit tried his best not to look away and shuffled his hands under his cloak.

“I… I just wanted to talk to you Thomas.”

“About?”

Deceit let out a sharp breath as the words escaped his mind. “I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling really bad. Bad as in poorly, not evil.”

“That was totally a necessary clarification,” Roman muttered as he sat down next to his brother. Deceit shit him a glare. Roman put his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll shut up now.”

Thomas ignored him. “And you’re telling me this why?”

Deceit tried to hide his hurt. He remained quiet for a moment, trying to recall all his fellow Side’s comforting words. Logan’s assurance, Virgil’s silent support, Patton’s honesty… It didn’t feel like much against Thomas but he tried his best to cling to it.

Taking a deep breath, Deceit sized himself up. “I am one of your Sides, Thomas. I have a role, I’m important. I am a part of you. I’m not trying to hurt you or make you a bad person. I- Ugh, words mean a lot to me Thomas. More than you could possibly understand and I can’t express how much it hurts when you- you say that I make you a bad person or that I scare you. I just… I just want you to know that’s not my intention. It’s never been my intention.”

Thomas stared at him for a moment before fumbling with his words and waving wildly at him. “Bu- How... Guh!”

Remus clapped sarcastically. “Stunning. Truly, a life changing speech.”

“Shut it, Dukey,” Thomas snapped. Or he would have snapped if he was capable of snapping. Thomas was too kind for that. 

Thomas let out a breath and rested his arms on his knees, burying his face into his hands. Deceit took a step forward, blinking curiously. Was Thomas upset? He looked upset.

“Look, Deceit,” Thomas said, voice muffled by his hands. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings. I just… This is so hard, facing parts of myself. I mean, it’s weird. Normal people don’t face this. It’s weird when it comes to all of you but you… You’re a physical manifestation of the parts of myself that I don’t like. It’s easy to forget that you’re more than just the thing that makes me lie. Accepting myself is hard and being able to talk to you guys makes it easier and harder in ways I don’t think you can understand as a Side. I know I can’t just stand up and say I’ll treat you better. I can’t magically change my feelings or just decide I’m going to like you from now on but I know I’m not the best… uh, host. I’ll try to respect and understand you, Deceit.”

Deceit took a step forward and slowly put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. Thomas looked up and brown eyes met a pair of mismatched ones. Deceit felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Don’t call yourself a bad host. We love you for you, Thomas, and nothing can change that.”

“Thank you, Deceit,” Thomas whispered and the smile finished forming on Deceit’s face. A warm sensation surged in his chest at the words. He needed to hear that more than he thought he did. Thomas was his everything and Deceit knew the road ahead was still pretty rocky but maybe they had a chance of finding something new. Something better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of this story. Thank you for all of your guys' support. I've been writing for a long time but I'm new to ao3 and this was the first story I've posted that got the reaction it did. It was originally just going to be a oneshot that I wrote at 3 am and posted on a whim but you guys asked for more and I can safely say I'm glad you did.
> 
> Chances are I'm not going to expand on this story. This story was a challenge of sorts since I had to stick with the theme and keep each chapter under a thousand words. I'm sure some of you will be unsatisfied with the ending but this was the best I could do with those limitations. If I wasn't so limited, I could do a lot more but I'm happy with where it ended and I don't want to force more out of it. If you liked this story, check out some of my other stories if you'd like. I plan on writing more in the future.
> 
> So again, a big thank you to all you readers. I'm glad you enjoyed.


End file.
